


Possession

by Eternal Scribe (Shadowcat)



Category: Charmed
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:33:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcat/pseuds/Eternal%20Scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Belthazor/Cole meets Phoebe, she's a prisoner of the The Source of All Evil in the Underworld and his Oracle. He doesn't know why she's there and why she hasn't been rescued, and Phoebe's not telling him anything -- nor is she offering more than a token resistance to anything that happens to her. Cole is determined to find out why she's there -- and what these new feelings and urges that he's feeling mean to him and who he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for WitchesBigBang at DW and LJ.

He was with The Source the first time he saw her. The small brunette was laying on her side on a stone slab and her eyes were full of sadness when she looked at him. She didn't speak to him, just kept her gaze on The Source as he spoke. She never looked away from him as he moved.

"This is my pet...my Oracle...her name is Phoebe," The Source was saying as she slid off the stone slab and stood in front of The Source.

 _Bright One_ , he thought as he looked her over.

"The best part of this," The Source was saying. "She's one of the Charmed Ones," he said with a smile.

He found himself fighting not to stagger back as he looked at the Oracle.

_Charmed Ones? What was one of the Charmed Ones doing here in the Underworld?_

The Oracle dropped her eyes so that he couldn't see them, but from the way she held herself, she was frightened and she was in pain.

_Mine._

The sudden thought that exploded within his brain surprised him.

_Mine._

His demon self and his human self was laying a claim to the Oracle that belonged to The Source...The Source who had more power than he could ever hope to go up against. He watched with narrowed eyes as The Source circled the Oracle.

"Ah, Phoebe," he hissed as his hand found its way to her throat and he squeezed lightly, making her look at him. "Still so defiant, still full of hope that you will find a way to escape."

"I serve as I must..."

Such simple words...but there was no defeat lacing those words.

He clenched his fists behind his back as he watched The Source shove Phoebe --- _Bright One_ \--- against the wall. She didn't resist, but he could see her muscles tightening as she struggled not to fight back, and this made him curious.

"See how she caves before me, Belthazor?" The Source asked. "Part of her wants to fight, but the other part of her knows that she is powerless to resist. I own her."

It happened faster than he expected, and even then, he didn't know if he would have tried to stop her. She said something in a soft tongue and The Source was flung back against the opposite wall. After a moment, The Source straightened with a growl and extended his hand in a whipping motion. The Oracle's head snapped to the side, and three lines of blood opened up on her cheek.

"The kitten has grown claws again," he said in a gravelly voice. "How shall I clip them this time?"

Belthazor watched with great interest as Phoebe bared her teeth at The Source. She glared at him in hatred even as her head whipped to the other side and blood appeared on that side of her face, too.

 _Mine!_ came that voice inside him again and it was getting angrier with every blow that the Oracle took from The Source. _Mine!_ How dare he strike what belonged to him?! Of course, the fact that he was laying claim to something that belonged to his liege slipped his mind.

"You forget, little Oracle, what I can do to you if I choose."

"I forget nothing," Phoebe said in a soft voice. "I also don't forget that you dare not kill me."

This was beginning to get interesting, and Belthazor leaned against one of the wall to see how this played out.

The Source grabbed Phoebe and slammed her against the wall. With his other hand, he caressed her cheek.

"There are things that can be much more satisfying than killing you slowly, Phoebe."

"Perhaps," she whispered softly, "But we both know what will happen if you damage me too badly."

The Source pulled back with a wicked grin. "I think I shall let my best play with you for awhile. Then, perhaps you won't be so prideful and remember that I suffer you to live."

Phoebe's eyes widened as he gestured at Belthazor. 

"Belthazor."

_What the hell is going on?! He's giving her to me?_

"Yes, Liege?"

"I want you to to take my little Oracle with you for the next few nights...maybe longer."

_Excuse me?_

"My lord?"

"Phoebe obviously needs a lesson in the fact that there are worse punishments than me." He smiled. "So, she should be the special guest of my best witch assassin for the foreseeable future. She is yours. Do as you wish with her, but...do not kill her. You must not kill her." There was a slight quiver in The Source's voice, but it was only there for the barest of seconds.

He saw the flicker of fear in the Oracle's eyes and he cursed The Source for saying that about him being his assassin of witches. Her fear of him was the last thing he wanted.

"Show her...a very good time, Belthazor." The Source said. He smiled cruelly. "Show her your best."

"Yes, my Liege." He bowed and stayed bowed until he felt The Source leave. Then he slowly straightened and stared at the Oracle in silence for several long moments.

Phoebe stared back at him. There was fear in the depths of her brown eyes, but there was also defiance in them. He took a step towards her, and she flattened herself against the wall as she looked for a way to escape. He stopped, watching her.

"It won't do you any good, Bright One," he said gently. "Even if you get away from us, how will you get out of the Underworld? I doubt you are a teleporter---and a White Lighter obviously cannot hear you from down here."

The Oracle frowned at him. "What does a demon know of White Lighters?" she asked.

"I know that they are the Guardian Angels of witches...and that yours obviously failed you."

"Leo..."

"Is obviously a dolt?" Belthazor supplied.

The Oracle's eyes darkened with anger. "You don't know anything about us or about Leo, so don't presume to pass judgment on him."

"He's not a very good White Lighter if you are here, a prisoner of the Source."

"I suppose you've killed enough witches that you've learned a thing or two about White Lighters?"

"A thing or two," Belthazor admitted.

The Oracle sat on the stone slab. "You kill witches."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's what I do." It's what I'm ordered to do.

"And now you're going to rape and torture me because that is what you do."

He twitched inwardly when she said those words so calmly. He looked into her eyes again and he could see that she had been through several kinds of tortures since coming into The Source's possession.

"How long have you been here?" he questioned quietly.

She looked at him, not sure why he was interested. "Over a year, I think."

He frowned. "And why hasn't your White Lighter come to your rescue?"

She ducked her head. "Probably afraid that he would be ambushed and he cannot risk that."

Belthazor was at her side in a flash and he raised her head so that he could see into her eyes...see into her soul.

 _Mine._ That damned inner voice again.

He nudged at her mind with his and looked around a bit, then he felt a door in her mind slam against him, throwing him out of her head. That was very interesting.

"Never bow your head in my presence, Bright One," Belthazor said softly. "When I speak to you, or you speak to me, I wish to see your eyes."

There was a flash of something in her eyes and he felt very strange when holding her like that. He felt like he was being pulled into her soul. 

"Bright One?" she questioned suspiciously.

"Phoebe means bright one or shining one...thus, I have decided that I should call you Bright One. It will be my own name for you."

She frowned in confusion and he saw disbelief in her eyes. "Why should you give me a private name like this," she asked softly. "Is this some sort of new trick?"

Belthazor shook his head. "No trick, Oracle," he assured her. "I am not The Source...or any of his others. I am me. I want you to be able to differentiate between us in both your mind and your soul."

"Why?"

Belthazor frowned, and squeezed her chin gently. "Because that is what I wish, Bright One," he said in a firm voice.

Phoebe nodded slightly. "Yes, Belthazor."

He flinched inwardly. For some reason, being called by that name by her really bothered him. "My name...is Cole," he finally said.

What was it about this witch that was breaking down so many of his barriers that he had built up over the centuries? No one had called him Cole since his father was killed all of those years ago. And yet...

And yet...

"Keep that name between the two of us, Bright One," he commanded softly. He let go of her chin and brushed her hair back from her bloody cheeks. He would have to make sure to get those cleaned and healed up. They would also have to do something about her clothing. He was suddenly feeling very possessive and didn't want any of the other demons down here seeing _his_ Phoebe looking like an Egyptian Temple Dancer. He stared down into her brown eyes again. "Now, tell me truthfully, for I'll know if you lie, why hasn't your dolt of a White Lighter come to rescue you?"

Phoebe swallowed and fought to force her eyes to stay locked on his. "He has...more important things to do than trying to rescue me from a pit of demons," she said softly.

Belthazor shook his head. "Not good enough, Bright One," he said in a very firm voice. "You are one of the fabled Charmed Ones. What could be more pressing...more important than rescuing a Charmed One from torture and keeping her safe?"

Phoebe frowned at him, desperation in her eyes...and he knew there was a lot more to this situation than she was telling or that The Source knew.

"How do I know you will not run to The Source with anything that I tell you?" she demanded. "I have been here for over a year and you are the first one to think about what the situation must be like where my White Lighter is concerned."

It was a fair question.

"Because I am telling you that I will not betray your confidence."

"You're a demon! Betrayal is what you do!"

"I'm only half-demon," he said quietly, shocking the hell out of himself. "I'm also half-human."

Phoebe cocked her head and then lay her hand against the side of his face. She stared into his eyes for a very long time---at least it seemed to him that it was a very long time. She finally nodded and then removed her hand, stepping back.

"You're telling the truth."

"Of course I'm telling the truth," he grumbled. "Telepath or Empath?"

Phoebe smiled faintly...sadly. "Empath...but I do have a sort of telepathy that seems to have started developing since I have been here."

This pretty Oracle was dangerous...very dangerous to The Source indeed.

"What else can you do?"

"I'm not allowed to use my powers in the Underworld. Your _owner_ or leader has forbidden the use of my powers --- except my powers that serve him..."

"As you belong to me now, I am ordering you to show me what else you are able to do."

Phoebe sighed. She held out her hand and fire shot from her fingers to explode against the wall across from them. "Sometimes, that works." She shrugged. "I have no idea where that came from as I haven't been able to do that in this lifetime until a few months ago."

_Nice. Potentially useful._

"I can clearly see the future...as you no doubt already know. However, I can also see the past."

Empathy, telepathy, fire-throwing and premonitions...The Source was nurturing a very powerful...very dangerous enemy.

"Now," Belthazor said calmly. "Let's get back to our conversation about your White Lighter."

Phoebe sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Where is he and why hasn't he come to get you the hell out of here?"

Phoebe frowned and looked down for a long time. She wasn't sure she should trust this demon, as The Source did call him his favourite. However, he did say he wouldn't betray her or her confidences.

"Leo...Leo is protecting my three sisters. When I got attacked and grabbed, Leo did try to come and rescue me. I wouldn't let him. The future...the future said that Leo was needed with my sisters."

Belthazor was getting angry. "So, he did as you said with no argument and didn't even try to help you? What kind of a White Lighter is he?!"

"One that trusts what his witch sees and decides to do," Phoebe snapped back at him.

"If you were my witch-"

"I'd be dead now, correct?"

When she looked at him like that he could feel himself growing uncomfortable. "I protect what is mine," he finally said.

"Even from The Source?"

"If it's important enough to me."

Phoebe tilted her head and looked at him for a long moment. "How do you decide if something is important enough to you to protect it from the one that claims to hold your leash?"

"I just know...somehow, I know."

Phoebe sat on the altar slab again. He would definitely need to get her better clothes. As much as he enjoyed seeing her limbs and seeing her flesh, he refused to let anyone else see her in this state of dress ever again.

"Do you know at the same time he knows...?"

"He cannot read my thoughts or my emotions."

"Then how am I able to?"

He did a mental somersault at her words. "How are you able to what?"

"Read your emotions."

Belthazor stared at her. "You can read my...my emotions?"

Phoebe nodded at him. "Yes, I can. Right now a few of them are exceptionally strong."

Okay, she was a very dangerous weapon...and the Source had given her to _him_.

"Does the Source know?"

"That I'm an Empath?" Phoebe shook her head. "I've managed to keep that little tidbit hidden from him."

"That's a good thing, Bright One. Letting him know you can do something like that can be very dangerous."

"You mean even more dangerous than it already is for me here," she said sarcastically.

She had a point. "He could have you killed."

"He doesn't dare. He doesn't want to deal with the wrath of my sisters or of some of the higher powers. Why do you think I'm still alive? It's not for my good looks. And it's not just because he needs my powers of premonitions." She looked at him. "He doesn't dare kill me because he's not sure that my sisters won't summon all of the spirits of past Halliwells to end him."

"Can they do that?"

Phoebe gave him a look. "Do you honestly think that I'm stupid enough to tell you anything my sisters can do just because you're sexy as hell and being nice to me?" She shook her head. "You're still a demon and you're still helping to keep me prisoner here."

"Half-demon," he said again. For some reason, it was important to him for her to make that distinction.Though, he had to hide a smile at her comment about him being sexy. "Half-demon."

"Fine, half-demon. However, you have been given me to mess with like I am some kind of carnival prize and you're still a minion of the Source of All Evil."

"You can trust me, Phoebe," he said quietly. "I refuse to let anyone harm you."

"Until he orders you to try to break me," she said bitterly. "It's only a matter of time and he'll order you to do something and then you betray that trust and that promise."

Although he knew that she had every reason in creation to distrust him and think the worst of him, he _really_ did not like the fact that her opinion of him was so negative. It made sense that she wouldn't believe in him, but damn it, he had told her he refused to let anyone harm her. She was _HIS_! Phoebe, Oracle, Charmed One... she was his and he wouldn't let anyone touch her ever again.

He let out a breath. "Bright One... I won't let... I will not hurt you. I will not allow myself to be made to hurt you."

"You're his," she said quietly. "He can force you to do anything he wants you to do."

"I'm not his," he argued, and his eyes widened as he realized what he was saying. "I'm not his."

Phoebe gave him a sad look. "Don't say things you don't mean, Cole. You are as much his as I am."

"You're mine."

"Only so long as he deems it worthwhile." She said quietly. "On a whim he could take me from you and give me to another of his pets and I will be even more screwed than I was before because I trusted you and told you things." She shook her head. "I cannot afford to trust you, Cole."

"So, you plan to dislike me the entire time you're here?"

"I didn't say I dislike you," she corrected him. "I distrust you. There is a difference."

He couldn't believe he was actually having this conversation. What was it about Phoebe that made him want her like he did? Why did it matter to him if she trusted him or not? He watched her as she spoke, and saw that she seemed to be inching away from him and towards the entrance to the cavern.

"Don't," he warned quietly. "There's no way out of this place for you and you really are safer with me than any of the others."

Phoebe looked at him and her eyes seemed to look deep into him. "How can you say that when you could quite possibly be the biggest danger to me of all?"

"I haven't done anything to harm you," Cole said incredulously.

"Nor have you let me go." She pointed out. "You talk to me like you're a friend, when we both know that he still holds your leash and the minute he gives you further orders about me, you'll carry them out." She shook her head. "You're being nice and sweet, which makes you even more dangerous. Most people get disarmed and deeply hurt by the nice ones."

Cole frowned as he listened to her. He was damned sure that he wasn't thrilled with her assessment of the situation -- or of him. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. He had to get away from her for a little while. He needed a clear head to think - and he really couldn't think with her so close. This woman... this witch... she was getting to him in ways that he wasn't used to and it was a dangerous confusion to have.

"Stay here," he said finally. "I'll be back soon."

"What are you --"

"Just stay here," he growled at her, shimmering out of the area.

Once he was gone, and she didn't sense anyone else lurking outside of the chamber, Phoebe allowed her shoulders to slump. She moved back against a wall and slide down it. She pulled her knees to her chin and watched the opening to the chamber.

_She was scared._

Dealing with the Source and his other demons was hard enough - was dangerous enough. But now? Now she had been given to the Source's number one witch killer. She knew of Belthazor by reputation and what she had seen in the Book of Shadows. She had expected one day that she would come face to face with the most dangerous one of the Source's men... but she had never expected it to be anything like this. These circumstances were not what she would have chosen.

_She wanted to go home._

Even as she wished it, she knew it wasn't possible -- not right now. For the sake of everyone she loved, this was where she had to stay. She had survived here for over a year. A few more shouldn't really be that much of a problem. Time enough for Paige and Piper to get control over their new powers. Time enough for --

No.

She couldn't think about that right now. She couldn't afford to even let a whisper of that thought enter her mind. There were too many enemies down here and there were too few guardians up there. Her staying down here guaranteed a measure of safety for those that she loved above.

It didn't make the loneliness and the fear easier, though. It didn't make the cold and the pain go away.

It didn't stop the tears she allowed herself to shed when she knew that no one was around to see or hear them. Like hell she was going to give the Source or his henchmen any sign of weakness like that.

Weaknesses like tears.

Tears like the ones she was trying to fight back and bury in her knees. She tightened her arms around her knees as her shoulders shook from the sobs she kept trying to hold in. Her face was hidden by her hair and she was being very careful not to make a sound. The last thing she needed right now was to draw out any curious demons; demons who would love to use her pain to their own advantage and perhaps cause her more pain.

When she had first forged the agreement to come down here, she hadn't thought that it would be that bad. She knew that the Source didn't dare kill her or let too much happen to her. He knew what could happen to him and his power if she was killed. He knew what her family -- past and present -- would do to him if she ceased to be part of the world. She soon learned that the Source could do things to make her suffer that could be considered to be far worse than killing her.

Still she stayed. She endured. She dealt with the cruelty and the torture. She didn't have a choice.

Oh, her family would argue... they had _tried_ to do so, in fact. Prue had been furious with her decision... but when it had come time for her to go, it had been Prue who backed her up against Piper and Paige. Leo... Leo hadn't liked the sacrifice she was making, but he understood why she was doing it. He had guessed from the things she was saying that she had seen something -- something having to do with his family. Before she was taken down to the Underworld, she had seen gratitude mixed with the sadness in his eyes. However, the last words with her sisters had torn at her.

_"Damn it, Phoebe, think about what you're doing! You're turning yourself -- a Charmed One -- over to the bad guys!" Piper's voice had been shaking._

_"I know what I'm doing, Piper," she had argued. "I don't have a choice. Paige needs time to get comfortable with her powers and --"_

_"Don't you dare use me as an excuse for sacrificing yourself!" Paige snapped angrily._

_Tears had been flowing down Phoebe's face as she stood apart from her family, trying to get them to see why they had no choice but to let her go with the Source's minions. "I made a deal, Piper. It's a deal that I can't go back on."_

_"You made a deal with the Source of All Evil! Of course you can go back on it," Prue yelled at her._

_"I can't!" Phoebe wailed. "You don't understand!" The anger and despair that she was picking up from her family was tearing her apart, but she knew that there was no choice but for her to do this._

_A quiet voice cut into the fight. "Then makes us understand, Phoebe. Make me understand why you are willingly turning yourself over to the people that have been trying to kill you guys for years -- the people who killed my partner." Darryl's eyes were piercing as he looked at her. "Make me understand, Phoebe. Because I really don't see a good reason for you to be perpetrating such a betrayal."_

_She looked at him and there was sorrow in her eyes. In the end she pulled Prue and Darryl aside, and in a halting voice she told them about her premonition and what she had seen -- why she had to do what she was doing._

_"Oh Phoebe," Prue had whispered and then hugged her tightly._

_Darryl had run his hand over her hair and shook his head. "There's no other way?"_

_She had shaken her head. "Not if we're going to keep them safe." She swallowed. "It's only a few years. I can hang on for a few years, right? Then you guys can storm in and rescue me."_

_Prue had taken Phoebe with her to the attic, forbidding everyone else from going with them. Once there, they had summoned the ghosts of Penny and Patty to tell them what Phoebe was going to do. To Prue's horror and anger, her mother and grandmother told them that the Elders knew what had happened... and that they agreed that for the good of everything, Phoebe had to be sacrificed to the Underworld._

_"Those bastards!" Prue exploded._

_"Even with Phoebe lost, there are still three Charmed Ones so they think..."_

_"Phoebe is my baby sister, not just a Charmed One," Prue had burst out. "The Power of Four is much stronger than the Power of Three and if they allow anything to happen to her..."_

_"There's nothing we can do," Phoebe had whispered in defeat._

_"But we can," Penny had said quietly. "I have no desire to see one of my granddaughters dead." Her voice was threaded with steel. "Prue, you tell that evil bastard that if anything happens to Phoebe -- if she dies -- it will mean the end of him. Tell him that you and your remaining sisters will summon all of the deceased spirits of the Warren-Halliwell line and we will destroy him."_

_Patty looked at Phoebe. "I know it's not much, sweetheart, but it will keep him from killing you outright. He'll be too afraid of what we would do."_

_"And the Elders?" Phoebe questioned softly._

_"Leave them to us," Patty said firmly._

_Penny gave a sad smile. "We're so proud of you, my darling girl."_

_Phoebe managed to smile slightly at them. She didn't want them to be proud of her for this - she didn't want to have to be doing this. She had wanted someone else to come up with an answer so she didn't have to sacrifice herself to The Source..._

_When he came for her, Prue and Darryl were with her. Prue had made sure that The Source knew what would happen if Phoebe died in the Underworld._

_"I could kill you both and take her anyway," he had laughed._

_"Do you really want to test that?"_

Phoebe was pulled from her musings by the feel of someone coming into the chamber. Before she could get to her feet and react, something slammed into her and the world went dark.

 

Phoebe regained consciousness slowly. Her head and chest hurt and she wasn't sure why. When she felt hands moving up her legs, her eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, and found that her wrists and ankles were chained to the altar. She lifted her head as much as she could and saw one demon kneeling at her feet, and another one standing at her side. When she caught sight of the athames they were holding, her mouth went dry.

The one standing next to the altar smiled when he saw she was awake. He moved up to her face, drawing the athame down her cheek. "Hello, little Oracle."

Phoebe's eyes widened at the knife pressed to her face and she couldn't do more than whimper.

He seemed to be enjoying this as his companion began moving his hands up her legs again. She felt a sudden burn of pain and realized that he had just sliced his blade into her leg. She tried to scream, but the one near her head covered her mouth violently with his hand, and shook his head.

"Not a sound out of you, witch," he hissed. "We heard that the Source gave you to Belthazor to be taught a lesson. Since he's not here, we're going to give him some help and make sure you learn your place. Now, we can't enjoy our work if you start screaming and bring the rest of the Underworld in here. There wouldn't be nothing left of you then and we wouldn't have Belthazor's gratitude."

When Phoebe felt the knife cut deeply into her other leg, she screamed into the hand that was over her mouth. The sound was muffled and tears started sliding from her eyes down into her hair. With the hand over her mouth and that blade moving along her face, she could feel herself start to panic. When the other demon moved his knife up to her thigh, Phoebe felt terror flooding through her. They were going to carve pieces of her up... not to mention anything else they might decide to do her.

_Help me! Please somebody help me!_

The thought became an empathic scream as she felt the knife come down into her hip.


	2. Chapter 2

Belthazor had been stalking through the tunnels of the Underworld. Truth be told, he had gone looking for a fight. The feelings that the Oracle had caused to rise in him left him feeling off-balance and it wasn't a feeling he enjoyed. The fact that she had almost caused him to question his own loyalty to his liege had him in a high temper.

_What was it about her?_

He had come across witches before -- hundreds of them -- and he had killed them all with no remorse. He was the best assassin that The Source of All Evil had, and he had never questioned his duty. Never once had he felt guilty in all of the years he had been killing.

Then he met this witch. The Source's pet. The Oracle. The imprisoned Charmed One.

Not only did he feel himself lay claim to her, The Source gave her to him to break...

...and he couldn't bring himself to harm her. He couldn't do it, and to top it all off, he had promised her that he would not allow any further harm to come to her.

He growled in frustration, slamming his fist into a wall.

He'd go back the and show her that he was in control of this situation -- that she was his.

He turned to head back to where he had left her when something -- some emotion -- seemed to crash into his soul. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, when it happened again.

This time he could almost taste the terror and the pain in the emotions striking him. _It was Phoebe._ Somehow, he knew, it was Phoebe.When he heard the scream in his mind, he reacted instantly, shimmering to the location of the scream.

The first thing he was aware of when he shimmered into the chamber was the smell of blood. He could also smell fear in the air as well. His eyes focused, searching for his witch. When he spotted her, rage filled him, causing him to shift into his demon form.

Phoebe was chained to the altar, and she wasn't moving. There was one demon straddling her and another was at her head. Both of them were holding bloody athames. The blood... the blood that he smelled was hers, as was the fear. Seeing the demon straddling her, his mind decided he knew what had happened here -- what had happened to her.

Someone was going to die.

Quite possibly both of the demons that were now making her bleed.

He was at the altar in a heartbeat, grabbing the demon from on top of Phoebe and throwing him into the wall. An energy ball followed and the demon was dead. He turned with a growl and grabbed the second demon, shoving him against the wall by his throat.

"Explain yourself," he snarled. "What the hell are you doing?"

The demon struggled for a moment, and realized that he wasn't a match for Belthazor's strength. "We heard that The Source had turned the witch over to you. We found her alone and plotting ways to escape, and stopped her."

He didn't believe a word of it. Phoebe had told him she was here in order to protect her family, so there was no way that she would try to escape as soon as he was out of her sight. There was also the exchange he had witnessed between her and The Source. She had wanted to fight back, but she hadn't allowed herself to do that. Therefore, there was no way she would have done what this one was saying she had done.

"What have you done to the Oracle?" Belthazor's hand flexed around the demon's throat.

The demon realized that for some reason Belthazor was really angry. The witch must have done something that he had wanted to punish her for... and now he would have to wait for her to heal. The Source's favorite didn't have a reputation for being the most patient of beings, and now he wondered if there was a way he could get out of this with his head attached.

"We meant no disrespect, Belthazor. She was trying to escape and we thought it would be best if we prevented it."

"What. Did. You. Do." An energy ball formed in his other hand.

The demon's eyes widened. "Softened her up for you. Cut her a few times... showed her what it meant to disobey the Source. Taught her that she needed to be a little more friendly to all of us down here."

Belthazor growled. He didn't like what the demon was implying they had done to _HIS_ witch. He disbursed the energy ball and pulled the demon from the wall. Before the demon could say anything further, Belthazor grabbed his head and twisted -- breaking his neck. Dropping the demon as he turned to nothing, Belthazor walked to the altar. He undid the chains and looked Phoebe over to see how badly she had been hurt.

There was a thin cut on her face that was oozing blood, and a few bruises. The cut wasn't deep enough to scar, just looked like they had cut her face to scare her.

And she _had_ been scared. She had been terrified. He could smell it on the air in the room -- and he wasn't happy about it.

He gathered her up in his arms and shimmered with her to another part of the Underworld -- a part where his chambers were and he had made himself a little more at home. He usually traveled around so much that he didn't spend a lot of time here. However, what time he did spend here was eased by some of the modern luxuries he had added.

One of those modern luxuries was the very big bed that he had in the bedroom and that was where he immediately went. He placed Phoebe down on the bed and then moved her skirt away from her legs so that he could get a better idea of any other injuries she had sustained.

That was when he saw the knife wounds to her hips and her legs. The demons had seemed to be just slicing away at any flesh they could reach. One of the wounds appeared to be deep and he summoned a cloth to his hand to press against her hip. He was hoping that he could stop the blood flow until he could request the services of one of the alchemists. One of the alchemists would need to heal the worst of the wounds to her legs. He couldn’t tell how deep the wound was and he wasn’t any kind of healer. The Source wouldn’t be happy if she was damaged – and honestly, he was furious that someone had attacked what belonged to him.

He wished that he had taken just a little more time to make the demons suffer before he killed them. Seeing how many times she had been cut caused his rage to rise up again. Rage and an additional emotion that he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt.

_Guilt._

He felt guilty that he had left her alone while he was trying to sort out his thoughts about her and everything she had said to him. He had known that she was afraid of being tortured by him like she had been by the Source – and it hadn’t occurred to him that one of the demons further down on the ladder would dare to risk his anger by harming someone that belonged to him.

It was a mistake that he wouldn't make again. From now on, where he went, Phoebe went. He wouldn't let her out of his sight for any length of time that he didn't have to. He had assumed that his reputation alone would keep her safe and he had been wrong. He would have to rectify that and make sure that the Source didn't find out what had happened. She was supposed to be his to take care of and so soon after taking the responsibility of her, she had been attacked and possibly almost killed.

He didn't like those facts.

He sat down next to her and took her hand in his as he summoned bandages and clothes to his side. Carefully, not wanting to cause her further pain, he stated cleaning up the worst of the wounds.

As he was carefully cleaning Phoebe’s wounds, he felt rather than heard the Alchemist arrive outside of his quarters. Making sure that Phoebe was covered up except where she was bleeding, Belthazor allowed the Alchemist admittance.

When he saw the Oracle lying so still and bleeding, the Alchemist frowned and then looked at Belthazor for an explanation.

“She was attacked by two lower levels who thought that they could make points with me by scaring her and then making sure that she couldn’t run.”

The Alchemist nodded. “Does the Source know?”

“No. There’s no reason that we need to tell him. I killed the two demons and then called you to help take care of her wounds.”

The Alchemist called in his supplies. “I can fix the damage and make sure there is little to no scarring –“

“No scarring,” Belthazor interrupted. “I want no scars left to be memories of her ordeal.”

“Then I will have to give her something to deeply sedate her so that she will not feel the pain of the healing or tear something while I’m trying to work on it.”

“Then do so.”

“And the Source?”

“He’s the one that gave her to me. I highly doubt that he will have a problem with us sedating her so that you can take care of what a few rogue demons did to her.” There was a barely contained savagery in Belthazor’s voice.

“She won’t be available to him for her powers for some time if I do this, Belthazor.” The Alchemist cautioned. “I’m not a White Lighter that can heal everything instantly. It will take time, potions and care.”

“Better for him to be without her for some time than be without her because she has perished from her wounds. A dead Oracle is good to no one and he will be pleased that we did everything to safe her and keep her unblemished. You know how he is about the women he keeps around him.” Belthazor pointed out as he looked at him. “You see what he has her dressed in. We cannot allow there to be any scars left on her or it is you and I who will see his rage for it.”

The Alchemist paled slightly at that. “Yes, I see. Well then, I’ll have to do everything I can to make sure his eyes do not fall upon us for anything happening to the Oracle.” He sighed, looking down at her. “The healing will not be easy and she will be in pain – even with the help of the sedation.”

“I’ll be here to give you whatever assistance you need and find a way to keep her calm if she wakes up from the sedation.” He shook his head as he took in the bleeding cuts and then sighed. “At least it will give her a familiar face to focus on and hopefully not panic and make your job more difficult.”

“You care about her,” the Alchemist said as he eyed Belthazor. “Such a thing is dangerous down here.”

Belthazor frowned at him. “Do you plan to report me?”

The other demon shook his head firmly. “No, just be careful. There’s something about this one that has the Source on edge when he doesn’t know what she’s thinking. I can only imagine what he might do to her if he thinks that you’re going soft for her.”

“And his way to keep control is removing the temptation of anyone that could draw loyalty away from him,” Belthazor nodded. “I know that very well. I’ve seen his politics up close and personal.”

“Then we will both have to make sure we work very carefully in order to keep that knowledge away from him.”

Belthazor sighed and then nodded. “If we’re both working together, it will make things much easier and will keep her safer for now.” He lifted a brow at the Alchemist. “But why are you willing to help me keep her safe?”

“You think that I’m planning something to betray you?”

“It had crossed my mind.” Belthazor looked at him. “I would hate to have to kill you just so that she could heal in peace.”

“She’s kind,” the Alchemist said after a long moment of thoughtful silence. “She hasn’t been cruel or mean-spirited to anyone down here unless they have been threatening to her, first. You would think that a witch trapped down here and being hurt as she has been hurt would have nothing but hate for anything remotely demonic, but I haven’t seen anything like that. She has tried to be kind to some of the younger ones and has even tried to protect them from bullies.”

“Doesn’t she realize that all that will do is make it worse for the young ones she protects?”

“It hasn’t seemed to because the bullies focus their attention on her when she does something like that. Which, I think, she expects all along when she does it.”

Belthazor looked down at the unconscious Phoebe. “How foolish of her.”

“She doesn’t seem to think so. I don’t know by what means she was trapped and brought here, but she only lashes out at the Source or at any other demons that lash out at her.” The Alchemist shrugged. “I haven’t been able to figure out why she does it, except for the fact that she just seems to have a depth of compassion that I’ve never come across before.”

Belthazor had to agree. “She does seem to have a dangerously soft heart. That and she’s braver than I think she should be while down here.”

“That is very true. She doesn’t cower away from anyone unless they have already done something to scare or harm her.” The Alchemist frowned. “Except for the Source. No matter what he does to her, she never truly cowers from him. She continues to walk a fine line between defiance and obeisance. There is more to that than I have seen, but as of yet, I can’t seem to puzzle it out. He’ll torture her, but won’t out and out kill her. She’s not completely obedient, but she is careful to not provoke him too much.”

“It’s definitely an intriguing mystery,” Belthazor mused as the alchemist got to work on Phoebe’s wounds.

 

“Wyatt. Have to protect Wyatt.”

Belthazor’s eyes opened when he heard Phoebe murmuring in her sleep. He leaned over her, concern in his eyes. Touching her face, he could tell that she was running a fever – which the Alchemist had told him would happen. She would actually wake up because of the amount of the potions she had been given, but he had warned that fever and hallucinations were possible. The best thing to do for her was to try to keep her calm and wipe her down with a cool, wet cloth if her fever spiked too high.

“Phoebe, Bright One, you’re safe,” Belthazor murmured, trying to keep her calm. He gently wiped her forehead. “You need to stay still so you can heal.”

“Wyatt,” she whispered, moving her head back and forth. “I need to keep Wyatt safe. I have to do this. I have no choice.”

He continued stroking her face even as his mind was turning over the name. Was Wyatt the name of the idiot White Lighter who let his charge get kidnapped by the Source? No, he remembered. She had called her White Lighter Leo. So who was this Wyatt that Phoebe was calling out for and becoming agitated enough to tear open her wounds again?

“Phoebe, Wyatt is safe, I promise.” Well, he didn’t really know that, to be honest, but right now he would tell her anything to keep her calm. He would lie to her if it kept her from tearing open her wounds before they had been able to heal enough that she was no longer in danger from them.

“Wyatt,” Phoebe murmured once more before going still and quiet again.

After he wiped her face again, Belthazor sat back, watching Phoebe. When she seemed relaxed and unconscious, he put the cloth back in the bowl on the shelf next to where she was resting.

 _Wyatt_.

It was the first time he had ever heard her mention anyone by that name and he wondered who he was. It wasn’t the White Lighter and she hadn’t mentioned any brothers; only sisters. That made sense because he knew that the legends of the Charmed Ones all said that they were female. Whomever he was, he was someone of great importance to Phoebe.

A boyfriend, then?

That thought caused him to narrow his eyes and snarl softly as his demon form manifested. A boyfriend that she was pining for could not be tolerated. Her life was down here now and she was his. _His_. He was forced to share her with his master, but he would not share her with anyone else – and most especially not some weak human above world who hadn’t even been able to keep her safe and protected when she was with him. For that alone, he should die. He had failed her and in Belthazor’s eyes, he no longer had any right to live.

He got to his feet and paced the area on quiet feet as he pondered what should be done about this new complication. It had never occurred to him that there might have been a man in Phoebe’s life before she was imprisoned by the Source. It was something that would need to be taken care of in a very careful manner. The boyfriend would need to be removed and then news would need to be brought to the Oracle about his death. She wouldn’t have a vision of it happening ahead of time because he was a human and not an innocent. The visions she had down here had thus far all been about things that the Source was putting into play – or people that could stop him in his tracks.

How to do it, though? It would need to be done with no one knowing that he had been involved. The problem he faced was finding someone that he trusted to carry out the assignment without asking questions. He couldn’t do it himself because Phoebe had already picked up on his emotions and some of his thoughts before her attack. He needed her to trust him and to turn to him as her protector – something that she would not do if she was somehow informed that he had been involved in the death of her above world boyfriend. She was loyal and she was too compassionate, so he knew that she would never accept him if he was the one to kill her Wyatt.

Belthazor growled as he looked at where Phoebe was unconscious. However he decided to take care of this problem, he needed to take care of it while she was too injured to be aware of anything happening around her. He needed her to be oblivious to his comings and goings while he started things in motion.

Closing his eyes, he summoned the one person that he could mostly trust down here to watch over his woman.

The Alchemist knocked softly on the wall after he was summoned.

“Belthazor?”

“Keep her safe,” he growled. “I need to take care of something important, but I don’t want to leave her unprotected.”

“I will keep her safe from anyone save the Source.” The Alchemist tilted his head. “I am not feeling suicidal today.”

“Understood. Do not let anyone else near her, Alchemist.”

“On my life, Belthazor.”

“It will be if anyone hurts her on your watch,” Belthazor promised before he shimmered out.

The Alchemist shook his head and then sat down in the chair that the other demon had vacated.

“Well, Little Oracle,” he said gently. “It seems that you have gotten quite under his skin.” He took the cloth and started wiping her forehead and face to bring the fever down. “I wonder what it was that had him taking off in such an agitated state. No doubt we’ll find out when he gets back, but I would not want to be the one that is the recipient of his complete focus like that.”

 

It wasn’t hard for him to find the house where the Charmed Ones were living. Their combined power was like a beacon to any demon that was stalking them. Of course, he couldn’t get inside the house unless one of them let him in. He could almost taste the powerful wards and protections that encompassed the house. There was no way that any demon would be able to easily attack them from in there.

Thankfully, he didn’t believe he would need to get into the house to get the information that he was looking for. He highly doubted that the Charmed Ones would allow any male that wasn’t married or blood to live in the house with them. It would be too difficult to keep the protections separated – especially if they were unlucky enough to marry a human with no powers of their own.

He would listen at a few windows and find out where Phoebe’s boyfriend lived and then he would leave to take care of things. There was no reason for him to stick around after he got his information. He wasn’t interested in Phoebe’s sisters. The less he had to do with them the better. If they spotted him around their house then they might try to vanquish him and that was the last thing that he needed to try to deal with. He’d be forced to defend himself and he was certain that if he hurt one of her sisters, Phoebe would never forgive him.

He didn’t want to earn her hate or be the source of her pain any more than he had to.

He was trying to decide how to go about getting his information when he heard an irritated voice from inside the house.

“Wyatt, you get back in here!”

Belthazor froze. Had he heard correctly? Wyatt was here? He frowned. That could complicate matters. It meant that he would have to wait around here until the man left the house unless he wanted to draw the attention of the remaining Halliwell sisters.

Which he certainly did _not_ want to do.

Staying out of sight, he leaned against the house next to the nearest window so that he could see and hear what was going on.

“Wyatt!”

The sound of running feet came to him out the window and then he heard laughter. He peered in and then stared in shock.

There was a little boy jumping up and down on the couch and giggling. He was watching the child when a woman came into the room and put her hands on her hips.

“Wyatt, what are the rules about making your toys move around by themselves?”

The little boy laughed. “Make them fly!”

“Not unless you’re going to put them back and clean up after you’re done with them.”

“Aunt Paige is funny.”

“Yeah, well Aunt Paige just had to explain to Aunt Prue why there were dinosaurs in her bedroom.”

“Protecting her!”

Paige’s face softened at that declaration. “Yeah, you’re just like Phoebe in that,” she said softly as she lifted him into her arms and held him close.

“When will she come home?” Wyatt demanded.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know. Hopefully soon.”

Wyatt squirmed in her arms and then orbed away and to the floor. “I’m a big boy now and she needs to come home!” He stomped his foot at Paige before he went running out of the room.

“Wyatt!” Paige started after him, but was stopped when two other women came into the room.

“He’s all right,” one of the other women said. “Daryl corralled him.” She tilted her head. “What sent him off in a five year old temper tantrum?”

“Sorry, Piper,” Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I mentioned Phoebe.”

The other two women winced.

“Yeah,” the third one agreed. “That would do it.”

“What’s going on, Prue?” Paige asked. “Phoebe was only supposed to be gone for a year, two at the most, and then we’d rescue her. It’s been almost five and she’s still down there somewhere.”

“Leo is doing his best, but he just can’t get a reading on where in the Underworld the Source is holding her.” Piper said quietly. “And scrying isn’t giving us any information, either.”

Prue shook her head. “We just have to keep searching the book and trying anything we can think of to find her and bring her back home.”

“She’s going to think that we’ve forgotten all about her,” Paige grumbled.

“No she’s not,” Piper corrected her. “Phoebe would never believe that of us. She knows how much we love her – and that we would do the spell to bring forth the power to raze the Underworld if she died down there.”

“Grams and Mom would never have let her do what she did if they thought there was any other way to protect Wyatt,” Prue reminded them both. “But the danger she saw in her vision to him is long past, so now we need to focus all of our energy on trying to find her and bringing her home.” She looked pointedly at Paige. “That means no more spending energy on what should have been or having doubts.”

“Prue is right,” Piper said looking at both of her sisters. “She sacrificed herself to protect Wyatt and it’s time that we bring her back to her family. She’s been gone too long and who knows what she has been through.”

“The important thing is getting her back,” Prue said firmly. “We can worry about what might have happened to her during her captivity after we’ve got her home safe where we can take care of her.”

Belthazor had heard enough and when the three sisters left to go into the other room, he shimmered back to the Underworld.

 

Belthazor sat in the chair next to where Phoebe was sleeping and he watched her. He had been wrong. She wasn’t calling for a boyfriend in her fevered state. She was calling for her _son_. The son that she had sacrificed herself to keep safe because of something she had seen in one of her visions.

It explained so much about her. It explained why she had looked out for the young demons that were bullied by their elders. It explained why she only pushed the Source so far – and why the Source was afraid of anything happening to permanently damage her. He didn’t know what power the sisters had been talking about, but it was obvious that the Source had believed their threat. If Phoebe died or was permanently damaged, the remaining Charmed Ones had access to something that would destroy not only the Source but the entire Underworld.

He would be more curious about that power if it wasn’t for the fact that he was still reeling from the information he had learned about Phoebe and her son. For him, she had entered captivity and risked death; and she had apparently been down here a lot longer than she had expected to. Her son was about five or six, so that meant that Phoebe had been apart from him for at least four years – more if he had been a newborn when she had her premonition.

He sighed, holding his head in his hands. That knowledge changed everything. As much as he wanted to keep Phoebe with him, how could he keep her away from her son? She loved her son so much that she had gone through who knew what at the Source’s hands and she didn’t do anything to stop him or to escape.

And he had no doubts that she would have been able to come up with a way to escape if she had put her mind to it. It never occurred to her because she was focused on keeping Wyatt safe and unharmed. He didn’t know what she had seen in her premonition, but it must have been pretty bad to cause her to go through such desperate measures. It didn’t surprise him, though, because he knew full well what an attractive draw a child of one of the Charmed Ones would be to evil everywhere.

How many people in the world – good or evil – were lucky enough to have a mother like Phoebe?

He answered the question before it fully formed. Almost none. Very few mothers would have been brave enough to do what Phoebe had done for her child. Phoebe was a rare kind of mother, and that meant that she deserved to be with her family.

He leaned forward and stroked her cheek gently.

“Bright One,” he whispered. “Oh, Bright One. As much as I want to keep you with me, you don’t deserve this kind of life. As much as I want you to be mine, your place is with your son. He needs his mother every bit as much as I want you.”

Wyatt needed his mother; he needed a parent that loved him as completely as Phoebe did. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to Wyatt and his soul if Phoebe never came home again. After all, he knew what his life had been like after his mother murdered his father. So many things about his life would probably be different if his father had lived and had been able to take him away.

He did not, under any circumstances, want Phoebe’s son to turn out like he had. He had the power and the ability to make sure of that. There had been no one to help his father, but he could help Phoebe. He could do the one thing that no one else could do.

He could give the Oracle back to her family.

Decision made, he stood up and then scooped Phoebe up into his arms. He kissed her forehead and sighed.

“It’s past time you were taken back where you belonged, Oracle.”

It was highly likely that the Source would want to kill him for this act of defiance, but he would deal with that when the time came. There was a little boy out there that desperately needed his mother.

 

After wrapping Phoebe up in a blanket to keep her as warm as possible, Belthazor shimmered back to the Halliwell house. Making sure that she was securely wrapped in the blanket, he placed her gently on the back porch of the manor and then tossed a light energy ball to slam into the door. It wouldn’t damage anything, but it would get the attention of everyone in the house. Once he heard people running to the door, he hid himself to watch what happened.

“What the hell –“ The expletive was cut off as Prue saw the bundle on the porch. She lifted her hand and used her power to lift up part of it and then she gasped. “Piper! Paige! We need Leo and we need him _now_.”

Prue dropped down to her knees and touched her long lost sister’s cheek. She stayed there, looking around to see if there was anyone out here. Once she was sure it was safe, she pulled Phoebe into her lap.

“You’re safe now,” she whispered. “You’re home and we’ll take care of you.”

“Prue what’s the – Phoebe?!” Piper looked from her older sister to her younger sister. She returned her gaze to Prue. “Is it really her?”

Prue nodded. “It is and she’s hurt.”

“But how did she get here?” Piper ran a hand along the strands of Phoebe’s hair that were sticking out of the blanket.

“I don’t know, but it was obviously not on her own. She’s wrapped up too carefully for that.”

“You mean someone brought her home, but who?”

Prue shook her head. “More questions that I don’t know the answers to. Help me get her inside, she’s hurt and needs Leo.”

Piper nodded and helped Prue pick up their sister. “God, Prue, she’s lost so much weight. What did he do to her down there?”

“It doesn’t matter right now, Piper,” Prue responded. “What matters is that she’s home and she’s safe. There will be plenty of time to get the answers we need from her.”

The door closed behind the sisters as they went inside and there was the sound of a man’s shocked voice calling Phoebe’s name.

Once the door was shut, Belthazor stepped out of the shadows and smiled sadly at the house.

“Good bye, Bright One,” he murmured. “You focus on being happy and being a good mother, and I’ll focus on keeping you safe.”

He glanced once more at the house and then shimmered away.


End file.
